Morning Drink
by LADYND
Summary: Post-Avengers, Dr.Banner is now staying at Stark's house with both Stark and Pepper. Stark's drinking is becoming a problem and only Banner is noticing. (Banner and Stark are not a couple in this just BFF's)


_AU Movieverse: Tony is an alcoholic and has been the entire time. After the events of the Avengers._

Tony was havIng a staring contest with his reflection. In the amber liquid he saw two puffy, puppy-dog eyes staring back. He was determined not to lose, but he did.

He sent the glass flying. It smashed on the wall and Tony fell off the bar stool.

"Sir?"

"Fu-fuck off Jarvis … I'm busy." spat Tony. Struggling to climb back up onto his chair, he gave up and flopped back on the floor. He lay on his back and slowly spread out his arms and legs.

"Jarvis, I'm an eagle … Get me a whiskey."

"I don't think that's wise-"

"Stupid artificial intelligence," Tony rolled over, and stopped again.

He left his face smooshed into the cold marble floor. He was not going to move for a while.

A few minutes passed.

"Sir," said Jarvis.

"What." growled Stark, still face first on the floor.

"Shall I get to assist you?"

Stark's eye slowly looked up at the ceiling, when his eyes could go no further he pulled himself up.

"That's not necessary Jarvis," with a deep sigh he leant against the bar.

He stretched one arm out, feeling it's away across the bar's shelf where he eventually pulled down a bottle. He read the label which took way to long then with a shrug he opened it and stared into the bottle neck.

"Sir, is in the elevator."

"What? What's the time?"

"5:13 am."

"Fucker doesn't sleep," he sipped at the drink.

The elevator doors pinged open. Banner froze as they opened fully. He saw the smashed glass and the puddle of drink. Stark was hidden from view save his hand. Banner jumped to worst case scenario - Stark was either passed out or dead. He sprinted forwards.

"Tony. Tony!" he ran round the bar and stopped.

"Morning," Tony smiled half heartedly," Want a sip?"

Banner was shocked. He sat down and stared, incredulous, at Tony. Tony could only frown and take another swig.

"Explain." said Tony, finally.

"It's 5 in the morning."

"And? That's not explanation, young man past your bed time …" he trails off.

Bruce scratches his arm, "Hey man what are you -" he started before Tony interrupted.

"This is my other guy." Tony said.

"Unfortunately I know someone else with the same other guy," he replied eventually.

Bruce could only think of his father when he saw the smashed glass and Tony's seemingly lifeless hand. He winced at the thought of how lifeless his father's hands weren't. Tony became to mumble some insult when he saw the lost look in Bruce's face.

Tony felt like shit. He looked around his swanky apartment building. His own bar. His own robot butler - which he created himself. Private elevator. A billionaire. He was drowning his sorrows, imagined or real either way he felt as if he was wrong. If anyone were to be consoling the other at 5:16am, you wouldn't think it'd be the successful billionaire but the man of bottled emotions and a dad which made Howard seem like the ideal father.

"Shit." muttered Tony. Bruce snapped back to reality, Tony couldn't make eye contact. He forced out a laugh.

"Come on big boy," said Tony grabbing Bruce's shoulder, " I need to sleep."

Bruce just nodded and helped him to stand. Tony stumbled but Bruce kept a firm grip.

"Jarvis, elevator," snapped Tony.

"Right away." the elevator doors pinged open. Tony and Bruce shuffled together to the open elevator. The lights turned off, the doors slid shut.

"Good night, sir." said Jarvis.

"There you go -" Bruce lowers Tony onto his bed. Tony nods and mutters his thanks.

"Care to join me my knight in shining armor?" jokes Tony as he rolls over.

"Night," Bruce shuffles out of the room with his hands in his pockets, " I'll be in the lab if you need me."

Tony lazily raises a hand in acknowledgement. Bruce shuts the door and Tony is left in total darkness. He doesn't sleep at all. A few hours crawl by and Tony can taste the alcohol in his empty stomach. It's 9:00. Another hour of closing his eye and he deems it a reasonable time to "wake up". Tony watches the clock.

10:00.

He glares at it as if it were a thing of pure evil.

10:01.

He groans in a mocktone to himself, Oh no! I've over slept.

Tony changes out of his wrinkled suit into a pair of tatty joggers and a t-shirt. He slips on some flip flops and turns to look at himself in the mirror. He's a bit worse for wear. Tony groans and then smells his breath - it reeks just as bad as it tastes. A quick rinse of some strong peppermint mouthwash and he finally leaves the bedroom.

"Morning Jarvis," says Tony as he walks through the house, his flop flops loudly slapping the floor, " Where are all the people in this house?"

" s down stairs -"

"Still?"

"He never left sir, and Miss Potts is out-"

"And she's gone without me?" a diva-esque gesture and he continues, "Where when."

"Just under half an hour ago, there was an issue at Stark Towers. Miss Potts asked me to tell you -"

Tony sighed, he's staring at his gorgeous billion dollar view.

"To get there as soon as you woke up."

"I'm not awake." Tony turns and quickly runs down the stairs.

"I'm afraid Miss Potts told me to send her a message as soon as you were awake."

"Ugh, you're so efficient darling Jarvis," Tony says," Tell her I am delayed."

Bruce heard the slapping of Tony's flip flops before his and Jarvis' voices.

"Right away," Jarvis beeps off.

"Morn-" Bruce says with a croak," Morning."

"Morning."

"Slept well?"

"Better than a person in a coma," Tony hops in, full of fake energy and slaps Bruce on the back. Bruce just gives him a suspicious look, "Breakfast?"

"Yeah, are you making it," Bruce asks. Tony nods, slightly confused at Bruce's surprise. Bruce laughs, " Never thought you could cook."

Tony jokingly hisses and shakes his hand as if he were burnt, he points at Bruce and walks out backwards.

"I shall show you my cooking prowess!" a flip flop flies off and Tony almost falls, he turns round ignoring it and Bruce's laughter. He jogs up the stairs, limping with only one shoe and annoyed he kicks off the other flip flop which bounces off the wall and down the steps.

Bruce turns back to the computer. Tony now fuelled with determination and ignoring his pounding headaches storms over to the kitchen.


End file.
